Did they even call it folk music back then? I can’t remember. Simon was born in 1898 and I was born in 1902. We were both winter or early Spring babies. I don’t know much more than that. So it stands to reason another reason I thought Simon was HIM is because he was 26… Continue reading Jane E. Musings #4: Music Again
I have I landed where I landed before? No, not in the least. On the other side of the country, for one thing. With parents I could only dream of back then. Plus, date-wise, we’re pretty much picking up where we left off. But we’re not in other ways. For someone who spent so much… Continue reading Jane E. Musings #2: Twenty Four All Over Again
Just from the way we met I thought HE was Simon. It seemed close enough to be true. We always said we’d meet up in another life. HE showed up mere months after The One left. So many things seemed to fit. One door closes, another opens. Right? But when a Sheba is in mourning,… Continue reading Jane E. Musings #1: HE wasn’t Simon . . . THAT is Simon!
It’s a Bright Size Life kind of afternoon. My life would be so different if it lacked the music of Pat Metheny. Once again, I want to write because I should, but my brain draws a blank. I kind of hate that. I’m one of those people who has to finish writing sentences or else… Continue reading Widowhood Season 9.03
Watching Mad Men courtesy of a week trial. That’s all I’m going to need or rather allow myself to indulge in. Went to a cousin’s wedding last weekend. It was a wonderful time, and it was great to have been there to see two souls vow to live as one. It’s always a little odd… Continue reading Widowhood Season 9.01
Inspired by https://www.jennettemccurdy.com/ When I was 14, I was weighed at the doctor’s office and they had to adjust the scale’s base to 100 for the first time in my life. Internally, I freaked the fuck out and didn’t allow that to happen again until I was 26 and dealing with my anorexia for the… Continue reading Hard Feelings #1: From Olive Oyl to Smoliv
Sometimes grieving someone is like having to fly in the clouds. The instruments of life say you’re plodding along as normal, but for some damn reason beyond your control, you have to be surrounded by clouds. When do you get to stop flying in them? When you find airspace without them. Until then, keep moving… Continue reading In the Clouds